


Knock Him Down

by cherryburlesque



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, PWP, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4543197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryburlesque/pseuds/cherryburlesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After that little scene in the cafeteria Porthos decides Cain needs to be put in his place like the dog he is. </p>
<p>Kink meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Him Down

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Phobos fumed as they left the mess hall. “I don’t know what the fuck central sees in him. If he didn’t have that little priss steering his ship around all the time he’d already be fucking dead.”

Porthos raised a brow, keeping his smirk to a minimum while he listened to the rant. “Did you just give Abel a compliment?”

Phobos stopped short, pretty face twisted in an unbecoming look of disgust. “No I fucking did not. Abel’s a tool, everyone knows that. He’s just got _luck_ on his side, not skill.”

Shrugging, Porthos hit the call button for the elevator, folding his arms while he fixed his companion with a mild look. “Sounds like you want him to get knocked down by a couple of notches.”

“Who, Abel? Pfft. I don’t give a shit about him. Someone will take care of him sooner or—“

“I meant Cain.”

“Oh. Well yeah, who wouldn’t want to see him get kicked off his high horse. Too bad the other Fighters are all pussy little shits. Scared of Deimos sneaking around after them if they lay a finger on him,” Phobos huffed, flouncing into the elevator to lean against the back wall.

Porthos followed behind, hitting the button on the way in as the doors hissed shut behind him.

“Fighter Level. Going Down,” crooned the automated voice on the intercom.

“Fighter level?” Phobos said, turning to scowl at Phobos. “What the hell are we going down there for?”

Porthos turned and gave his friend a dark look, sinister grin spreading across his face. “Do you want to teach that punk a lesson or not?”

 

X

 

They waited in a darkened corridor, eyes peeled on the coded entrance to the Fighters quarters. Phobos was practically vibrating, impatient and excited with the hurried plan they’d cooked up between them. They’d watched quietly as the Fighters trickled down from the mess hall, Cain amongst them, before hanging back to wait.

“What if Deimos comes with him?” Phobos hissed, “I don’t know about you but I’m not exactly interested in being knifed by my own Fighter.”

“He won’t,” Porthos muttered back. “He wasn’t with them when they came down. Probably following around after Abel again, I heard he’s been keeping tabs on everywhere the brat goes."

“Fucking creep.”

Porthos grunted in agreement.

It was nearing curfew by the time the Fighters doors opened again. The pair of them had banked on the hope that Cain would stumble out drunk and horny by himself, too keen to get back to Abel to care about hanging around with the rest of the monkeys until lights out.

Luck was on their side too.

The flick of a lighter sounded as soon as the doors hissed shut, and Porthos edged towards the main corridor keeping close to the walls. Out of the two of them, he had the lion’s share of strength and would be most likely to beat Cain in a fight, so they’d decided he’d initiate and Phobos would jump in once the Fighter was subdued.

Cain grunted once his cigarette was lit, still out of sight of the corridor. Porthos listened closely, hearing him shuffling about before apparently deciding to begin walking.

The second he was in sight, facing away from their vantage point, Porthos was on him.

With a forceful kick to his ankles, Cain went down with a shout, and Porthos immediately leapt on him. He pressed a knee into Cain’s back, reaching forward for his wrists before the Fighter could reach for his weapon or twist around for a swing. If Cain managed either of those things, the both of them were done for.

“Get the fuck off me!” Cain snarled, writhing around like a cut snake. “I’ll fucking kill you! _Get the fuck off!”_

“Get his knife!” Porthos hissed over his shoulder, Phobos immediately scurrying forward to dig around in Cain’s boot. “Give it here!”

“Porthos,” Cain snarled, twisting his head to get a look at his attacker. “You little fucking shit. I’ll fucking—“

He went silent when Porthos pressed the knife against his neck, jaw clenched and black eyes flashing dangerously.

“You’ll fucking what?” Porthos replied in a low voice. Cain didn’t answer, just glared at him with bloody murder. “That’s what I thought. Get up.”

Cain spat, making it clear what he thought of that command. Porthos pressed the knife a little harder, not quite drawing blood but with the intent obvious.

“I said get the _fuck_ up.”

“You coming on to me, princess? Thought Fighters were beneath you.”

“Oh you will be, you just wait. Phobos!”

Phobos scurried forwards, taking hold of Cain’s wrists while Porthos shifted his weight off Cain’s back. With the knife still at his throat, Porthos dragged Cain  up by the back of his shirt, moving them backwards out of the corridor.

“Didn’t think you had it in you,” Cain said, leering at Phobos despite the situation. “Not gonna lie, this is turning me on a bit. Always wanted to fight a Navi. Too bad you’re all a bunch of little pissbabies.”

They dragged him down the corridor they’d been hiding in earlier, Cain hissing and spitting the entire way. Phobos was practically giggling in excitement, no doubt riled up by the thrill of what they were doing.

Once they reached the supply closet they’d found, Porthos and Phobos hauled Cain inside, slamming the door into a deadlock behind them. Phobos quickly yanked at Cain’s belt, pulling it free to secure his hands behind his back by the forearms, tight enough that it would leave grazes for days afterwards.

“You’re really gonna do it, huh?” Cain sneered, apparently not at all worried about his predicament. The sick fucker was probably turned on too, if the flush in his face was anything to go by. “Man, if I’d known I’d have bought some shit with me. Who knows what you fucks have caught off one another.”

“You talk too much,” Phobos said in disgust, dragging out the roll of electrical tape and a strip of cloth they’d found when they scoped the place out. “Time for you to shut up now, just like everyone dreams about.”

“Ooh yeah. Gag me, baby. I like it rough.”

Phobos just clicked his tongue. He rolled the rag up into a wad, shoving it between Cain’s teeth and securing it with a strip of over his mouth. It shut him up, but it didn’t hide his grin.

Porthos leaned forward over Cain, fingers still twisted in his hair while the fucker laughed even behind the gag.

“You think you’re so fucking untouchable,” he sneered, grinding his pelvis forward against the Fighters ass. “No one can get the drop on _Cain_. But here we are, about to knock you down a couple of pegs.”

Cain just rolled his eyes, making a show of himself even when he couldn’t talk. Porthos smirked, amused and turned on by the entire show. Should have known Cain would be keen for it—probably fantasized about this sort of thing when he was making skinny, elbow-y love to Abel every night.

Porthos threw the knife away, no longer having need of it. Phobos stood back a step, apparently anxious now that they were actually going through with Porthos’s plan. Bully for him; Porthos didn’t care. He’d have all the fun by himself then.

He shoved Cain against the cold metal wall, grinding harder against him as he hissed into his ear.

“You Fighters aren’t anything but our tools,” he crooned, one arm between Cain’s shoulder blades while he reached down to undo the Fighter’s pants. And wouldn’t he know it, Cain _was_ turned on. Hard and eager as Porthos pulled him free and gripped him roughly. “No one gives a fuck if you get yourselves killed, they just replace you like the cannon fodder you are.”

Cain groaned around the gag, forehead resting against the wall while he breathed harshly through his nose. Porthos didn’t waste time getting him off, instead dragging his pants down and gripping a handful of his tight ass.

“You exist because we do. You’d be still stuck in whatever whorehouse you came from if it weren’t for us. So you owe us all one.”

He didn’t bother prepping him, didn’t really care. Cain had his ass angled out anyway, desperate and needy like every Navigator he’d claimed to fuck. Porthos guided himself in, pressing forwards with a leer as Cain groaned again.

“Look at you, looser than a fucking prostitute,” he lied through his teeth, because Cain was so fucking tight and hot around him. “You been getting fucked by Enke on the side?”

Cain snorted, but it was silenced when Porthos thrust forwards, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose.

Porthos glanced over his shoulder, laying eyes on Phobos who was watching wide eyed, face flushed and eyes bright. He grinned at him, and idea striking him.

Still buried in Cain’s ass, Porthos dragged him away from the wall, turning so they were both facing Phobos.

“C’mere,” Porthos said to Phobos, arm around Cain’s neck to keep him upright. “You wanna go? He’s nothing but a toy after all.”

Cain was breathing hard, flushed and glaring even though he tried to move against Porthos, grinding his ass into his hips.

“Stay still,” Porthos snapped, free hand giving a sharp slap across Cain’s face. That seemed to disorient him a bit, and Phobos practically squeaked in delight. Moving forward, Phobos repeated the motion, smacking Cain hard enough to make him snarl.

“Get his pants off. The slut probably likes being double-teamed. Don’t you, Fighter?”

Cain didn’t make a sound then, chest heaving as he stared at Phobos. The Navigator looked nervous, but his heavy breathing and flushed face gave way his excitement, and after only a moments hesitation he moved forward.

Phobos yanked Cain’s pants off, narrowly avoiding a jelly legged kick from the Fighter. Porthos snickered, free hand sliding down Cain’s stomach to grip his cock again, jerking him agonizingly slowly while Phobos fumbled with his own belt.

When he was free, Cain didn’t even bother hiding his desperation. He dragged Phobos forward with one leg, hooking the other around his hips so Porthos was holding most of his weight. Phobos gripped Cain’s ass, sharp nails digging in hard enough to draw a guttural moan from him as he was wedged between the Navigators.

“So desperate,” Phobos tsk’ed, finally getting into it as Porthos drew back leaving just the tip of his cock inside Cain. “You’re just dying to be used like the trash you are.”

When Phobos pressed against Cain’s ass, the Fighter threw his head back against Porthos’s shoulder, groaning loud enough that it would have been a shout if his mouth was free. His eyes twisted shut, but Phobos didn’t give him a moments reprieve, pushing forward until Cain was impaled between them, panting and shifting with discomfort.

He was so fucking tight around both of them, the heat of Phobos’s cock pressed hard against Porthos’s, both of them moving together while Cain arched back against Porthos.

His legs were gripped tight around Phobos’s hips, ankles hooked together and eyes clenched shut. Every thrust drew a grunt from him, both Navigators picking up speed as Cain’s body adjusted to them. Phobos slapped him again, laughing outright when Cain didn’t immediately snarl back. He was too consumed with being pounded by them to pay attention, head lax against Porthos’s shoulder.

“Look, Phobos,” Porthos crooned, one arm tight across Cain’s chest while the other gripped at his jaw. “He’s finally coming round to learn his place.”

Cain did jerk his head away then, only to earn another hit from Phobos who was apparently delighted in the way his head snapped to the side each time.

With both of them buried inside the Fighter, it didn’t take long for Phobos to reach his climax, picking up speed as moisture dampened the hair on his forehead and his breathing picked up. The feeling of his cock pulsing against Porthos’s as he came was both strange and so fucking hot, and Porthos increased his speed now that Cain was slick and stretched out.

Phobos pulled himself free, though Cain kept his legs in a vice around the Navigators hips while Phobos leered at him, replacing Porthos’s hand on his cock.

“C’mon you little whore,” he said, leaning forwards to bite at Cain’s neck. Leave a mark bright enough for Abel to see and ask questions about, so everyone would know that Cain got used. “You fucking like it, cum for us and show us how much you love getting fucked.”

Porthos laughed, thrusting hard and shallow while Cain’s breathing sped up. He was sweating, dark hair slick on his forehead and heat radiating off him and around Porthos, so fucking desperate to get off that anything would do. Any _one_ would do, so long as they were doing him.

Heat and pressure began to built in Porthos’s gut, fast and hard as he thrust, ignoring the burn in his thighs and back from supporting Cain’s weight. On impulse, Phobos reached forward and ripped the tape roughly from Cain’s mouth, immediately allowing him to cry out as he came. His body tightened around Porthos’s cock, back arching with his head thrown back and eyes twisted shut.

“Nng, fuck,” Porthos groaned, burying himself deep as he finally followed suit, thrusting hard and slow as he came. He bit down on Cain’s shoulder, drawing a hiss from him as he rode it out, Cain grinding against him to draw as much out as he could.

Finally, Porthos pulled himself free, barely giving Cain enough time to get his legs under him before he let him go. Cain immediately went lax, sinking down onto the floor as Porthos picked up the rag they’d used to gag him to clean himself up.

Cain was panting hard, bent forward and gasping for air while the Navigators just smirked down at him.

“Now you know where you stand, _Fighter_ ,” Porthos said, tossing the dirty tag at him. He bent down and freed Cain’s arms, not worried about a backlash. Cain was too weak from the ordeal to try. “Right at our feet where you belong.”

The Navigators tidied themselves up, righting their clothes and Phobos fixing his hair into something a little less haggard, both turning to leave when a hoarse laugh came from behind them.

“That was fun,” Cain said, eyes dark as he gazed up at them from under his bangs. “We should do it again some time.”

“Ugh,” Phobos just slapped the door of the supply closet open, not bothering to give a response.

They left Cain there like that, covered in sweat and cum, both Navigators smug and satisfied with themselves.


End file.
